


everybody's everything

by aquariuslester (geminidaniel)



Series: everybody's everything [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, dreamnotfound - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Boys In Love, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Self-Worth Issues, Sequel, Songfic, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, bad boy dream, caring george, soft dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28190859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geminidaniel/pseuds/aquariuslester
Summary: SEQUEL TO SAVE THAT SHITlearning to love and be loved.named after the lil peep documentary 'everybody's everything'
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: everybody's everything [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105442
Comments: 7
Kudos: 108





	1. the song they played (when i crashed into the wall)

the warm midday sun warmed george's skin as he laid out in the grass of clay's backyard. the grass was itchy against the back of his neck, but he didn't really mind. it felt like clay's soft, gentle back scratches when george was sleepy.

as he closed hie eyes, a soft sound of crushed grass came from behind his head. a body laid down next to him, pushing fingers into his short hair and massaging his scalp gently.

"hey," clay murmured, kissing george's forehead gently. the smaller boy opened his eyes to clay's face, his hair draping over their faces and shading them from the sun.

"hi," george whispered back, smiling softly and sitting up to kiss clay's chapped lips. "did you come to join me?"

"maybe. would you mind if i did?"

"not at all." he reached his arms up around clay's neck and pulled him down for another kiss. the taller man gave him another kiss before laying down next to him, their arms pressed together and clay's head leaning into the side of george's neck.

they stared up at the clouds for a few minutes in complete science. a sparrow landed in the birch sapling in clay's yard and rustled around. their breathing synced up to the way the wind blew the summer leaves around in the corners of their vision.

"you're so beautiful," clay said suddenly, breaking the quiet of nature around them.

"shut up, so are you," george responded, turning to face him. he put his hands on the boy's cheeks, staring into the eyes that began everything in george's life. he didn't know how to describe it, but he felt like his world changed since he met clay. he'd known dream forever, but meeting clay so recently was different.

they really were two different people, dream and clay. george couldn't really describe the feeling of seeing dream but hearing clay. seeing someone so hardened and tempered on the outside but so delicate, so gentle on the inside was strange.

"no i'm not," clay chuckled, rolling his eyes and leaning in to kiss the tip of george's nose. but george stopped him before his lips met his skin.

"yes you are," he argued, rolling over until he was sitting in the other boy's lap. his knees were pressed into the ground next to clay's hips, and his hands were on both sides of his head.

"oh really?"

"remember when you told me i was pretty?"

"...yeah."

"well, you're pretty too."

"how?"

george scoffed. "your hair. your eyes. your hands. your arms. remember how you held my hips that first time in my bed and your hands went all the way around to my spine?"

clay's eyes glazed over at the thought, imagining the world through george's eyes, where he was beautiful.

"y-yeah. but how does that make _me_ beautiful?"

"because," george sighed, "i think you're beautiful. and so do so many other people. why do you think people find you so enticing? like i did."

he felt the slightly frazzled texture of the edges of clay's hair in his fingers and twirled a few stray strands in his fingers absently. the boy below him was silent apart from his soft breaths as his line of vision burned into george's eyes.

his words were stuck in the air around them, and it took clay a few seconds to fully process them.

"y-you really think i'm beautiful."

"well, yeah. otherwise i wouldn't be saying it."

his tone was teasing, but it instantly softened under clay's misty eyes.

"o-of course i'm telling the truth. clay, you're the most beautiful person i've ever met."

"mean it?"

"are we going through this again?"

"yeah."

"okay. yes. mean it."


	2. come around

dream's feet dragged against the concrete as he walked into the school. he felt an insurmountable sinking feeling in his stomach for some strange reason. nothing had changed, the trees were still as barren in the winter, the pavement was still just as cracked and uneven. but he felt different.

the air was stagnant in his lungs and he desperately craved a blunt to calm his nerves.

his head kept replaying his conversation with george the day before. the idea that he was... beautiful? attractive?

he never really felt that he was _ugly_ , but beautiful just felt like a word that didn't fit him. what was beautiful?

it was george when he was half-asleep next to him on his deep blue bedsheets. it was the sunsets in summer when he would travel down to the coast with his family. it was the feeling of being helpful, making someone smile. it was the feeling he got in his chest when george was in his lap, their eyes meeting in a moment of silence. it was that one picture that clay had taken of patches, where the light from the window beamed down against the carpet, a portion of the brightness spilling over onto her shining coat as she rolled on her back and stretched.

but it wasn't dream. it wasn't clay, either.

all those things, those moments, clay found comfort in them. he didn't find comfort in himself or dream. especially not dream.

since he met george, something about him had changed. like the wall he had formed between dream and clay was crumbling. it made him uncomfortable. he was scared of slipping up in public, showing his sympathy and kindness instead of his usual grimace. he knew it was a stupid thing to be scared of, to show emotions.

but it terrified him.

everyone knew him as dream. they were all used to him; cocky, arrogant, annoying. what if they didn't like clay? he knew everyone hated dream, but what if they wanted dream over him? what if he was too nice, too gentle? what if he was too emotional? the idea of his reputation as clay alone was nauseating and made his head spin in frustration.

he wasn't ready to be everybody's everything.

it felt like there was an earthquake in his brain, and the bricks he piled between clay and dream were starting to wobble. he felt like he was desperately trying to hold the wall together while the ground trembled and opened underneath, sucking chunks into its void. they were the only stable things he'd had in his entire life, that wall and that ground. and now they were being taken from him, pulled away by something he couldn't quite control. he could tell the entity was kind, it was trying to help.

but one primal fear would never fall apart under the worst conditions: the fear of uncertainty.

no, dream wasn't beautiful. neither was clay.

a coin has two distinct sides, and the only certainty dream had now was that a coin's two sides could never merge. never.


	3. we think too much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> george finds something him and clay need to work on together.
> 
> hurt/comfort chapter

"are you okay?"

george sat up in clay's lap, looking into his unfocused eyes. he was staring off into nothing and his hands had stopped moving through george's hair.

"do you remember when you called me beautiful?" his voice was quiet, his tone absent of any specific emotion.

george scoffed, a hint of confusion pinching his eyebrows together.

"of course i do. it was, like, yesterday. why?"

clay shook the fog from his eyes and looked into george's concerned hazel orbs.

"why did you say that to me?"

george scanned the other boy's face, as if he was unsure if the question was genuine. his eyes met stark features; he was serious.

"what do you mean? clay," george paused, a sad sigh leaving his lips. "you're so handsome. you know i wouldn't say something like that to you if i didn't mean it." his voice sounded like an angel had descended directly into clay's lap from the heavens. the soft inclines in his tone bounced around in his head and the feeling resembled being pulled into a warm embrace. george had moved his hands to either of clay's cheeks, and he held his head still to look into the taller man's eyes.

for a moment, clay believed it. but only for a moment.

george's tone was so soft, so sincere. his pupils were wide with worry and the usual cheerful features on his face were crestfallen as he sat still, waiting for clay's response. a spear of sharp guilt stabbed through clay's stomach; the stinging pain of disagreeing with something that means so much to the other person.

he wanted to believe george, he really, _really_ did. he wanted to do anything to make george smile again.

but it just didn't feel right.

"...george?"

"yeah?"

_"what's wrong with me?"_

george stared at clay's face, his features somehow falling even farther into unhappy curves and concerned wrinkles at the question.

"clay," he murmured, his voice breaking. "don't say that."

"why not? you-- you can see something that i can't. doesn't that make me defective?"

"you're not defective. you know that."

the words pulled tears into clay's eyes. george's concerned face became blurry and doubled, warm water trailing down his cheeks in slow, steady streams.

"do i?"

george had never seen clay cry like this before. when george asked what his intentions were all those weeks ago, he somehow kept composed. but now, clay was cracking. the water on his cheeks looked strange and foreign in the fading sunlight. it was unsettling to see someone like dream, someone like _clay_ , show such raw emotion.

any words dried up on the older boy's tongue. what was he supposed to say?

it was the feeling of being just out of reach of an itch. he was so close, so desperate to scratch that spot, but his fingertips were just a fraction of a centimeter off. he meant every word he was saying to clay, but for some reason, he couldn't make him believe it. he was just a fraction of a centimeter off in his tone, his expression, where he was just out of touch. it was like an itch in george's heart, but the fingers were clay's brain.

george couldn't feel whole until clay knew what he was.

"you're gonna make _me_ cry," he whispered, biting the insides of his cheeks.

"i'm sorry," clay chuckled weakly, using the backs of his hands to wipe the dampness on his cheeks. he looked up at george, watching a tear stain his cheek.

"don't cry, baby," he murmured, "you're too pretty to cry over me."

"don't say that," he replied, sniffling softly. "what did we just talk about?"

the damp haze they were in was lightened when they both laughed. george was still worried about clay, but he always found a way to make him feel like everything would work out just how it was supposed to.

"promise you'll work on not being so mean to yourself?"

clay hesitated. the coin metaphor he related himself to earlier flashed briefly through his mind. he felt the same way in his chest, like that wall was being shaken down and steadily chipped away. it was still scary. he was so used to leaning back on it, he was afraid of what would happen to him when there was nothing there for him to rely on. he could already feel the phantom bricks that had been there months prior, the ones he was so nervous to part with when they were being taken from him, too.

he wasn't sure what was taking that foundation from him in the beginning. he was scared he was becoming too soft, too much of _himself_. was he really still himself, without that wall? it was hard to imagine still being whole when something so large, so integral to your image, is stripped away. but he couldn't ever truly _be_ himself again, or at least the person he was before george.

"promise."

maybe he'd be okay with that.


End file.
